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Revenge
The sun had set, and the moon came forth. I could see it all now. I could see the stars twinkling in the sky. I could see the moon's light delicately embrace me, and within its grasp, my eyes twinkled. It was the perfect night. I curled my toes and felt the moist grass beneath my bare feet. It was lush with life, and the grass truly was greener on this side. This side, of course, is my side. I always had trouble finding my way in life. Nothing ever worked out for me. Well, not until now anyway. No, I have all the power in the world at my disposal because I finally found a way to break through the barrier containing me. I had to scrap my old self to survive in this harsh world, and so I made the sacrifices which needed to be made. Surrounding me sat a large man in a white tea shirt and baggy jeans. He was a portly fellow, and had a very, very punchable face. He was tied to a small yet sturdy tree, the rope sinking into his flesh. Oh, how I adored the look in his eyes. The tears within them streaked down his cheeks and all the way to his chin. As I approached him, he began to whimper softly. That whimper raised into a scream, one which I could tell was of deafening volume. The only reason the bloodcurdling noise was halted was because of the gag cloth within the man's mouth. There were bruises all around his entire body, and cuts and gashes dug deep into his skin. I didn't want it to be this way. I never did. But it was meant to be. First, let me give you some backstory. Shortly after I was born, I was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome. It's a very high functioning form of autism, meaning realistically I should be able to socialize relatively normally in the outside world. I was only supposed to have minor issues getting along with people and relating to their emotions and connections. Throughout elementary school, my life went fine. I mostly stuck to myself and limited any and all interactions with people, especially those I didn't like. It was only as I got into a middle school that my views and goals began to shift. You see, although I enjoyed being alone with only my thoughts to accompany me, my parents always pushed me to be more social and make more friends. I of course always thought this was an absurd idea. Make friends with people? I had never been a people person before. Still, I thought that my parents knew best, and that they were only giving me suggestions such as that to improve my life and make me happier. So, naturally, I followed their instructions. The first thing I noticed about middle school was that people acted differently than what I was used to. Kids swore and fought, and I was honestly in a state of shock upon first discovering this new trend of behavior. Still, I tried my best to walk up to people and act friendly to them. Despite my positive outlook on life, the school I was one didn't return any of my kindness. I suppose being the ugly kid in a school never helps your case of making friends, but it felt like so much more than that to me. Even as early as 6th grade, I would find myself on the wrong end of a trio of angry boys who went out of their way to make my life a living hell. They shoved me and spit in my food. Anytime I went to confront them about it, they threatened me further. I couldn't do a thing about it. I was a small kid, and certainly not a fighter. What's more, I wasn't prepared in the slightest to fight kids twice my size. Because of this, my anxiety grew, and so did my feeling of hopelessness. My mother and father kept pushing me to meet new people and try to make friends, so I did just that. Even with the weight of bullying on my back, I tried my best to become likable. And guess what happened to me. I was thought of as the weird kid. I was the kid who had to visit a counselor to find out how to make friends. A group which my parents put me in to help me, yet it only ended up embarrassing me. As time progressed it only got worse. You've heard all the stories before. Kid doesn't fit in, kid gets bullied, kid loses all hope. It goes on and on and on. I would sometimes find myself hiding under desks, crying to myself and my classmates looked on in utter pity and disgust. I would cover my ears and scream as loud as I could, trying to drown out the world. My only salvation came from when I arrived home. I would hug my parents, and they would ask me how I was doing. I would reply with "fine" and head to my room, closing and locking the door, leaving me to my own devices. It was then that I booted up a fresh game of Minecraft and began playing my single-player world. I know it sounds crazy, but that game was my only escape from the ugly reality I was faced with every day. I would load up my world and mine and build, and it would soothe me to the point where I could forget about all my worries. But the day I'm describing to you was different. Something odd, and remarkable, happened. As I was playing my single-player world, I saw a text box on the side of my screen pop up. "Hello child. How are you." II checked the tab button to make sure nobody else was in my world. Sure enough, it was just me. Nervously, I responded. "Uh, hi. Who are you?" I awaited a response from the strange creature, and sure enough, one came. For some reason, when it talked I didn't feel scared at the impossible situation I had found myself in. "It matters not who I am. What matters is you, child. I see you, and I see you're dire situation. You're desperate for friends, and I would like to be your friend. I can help you, child. Let me." "Oh, and what can you do to help me? Can't you see it's hopeless. Nobody likes me, and I've always been that way. Why help me?" "Because child, I understand. I can help you, and I want to. I have the power to save your life, you just have to let me." Despite the fact that this crazy, impossible, implausible scenario was unfolding, I asked one final question to this being. "And who might you be?" Almost immediately it responded. "Why, I'm Minecraft of course. I'm your salvation. I'm you're only friend. The light in the darkness, keeping you away from insanity. Now... allow me to help you" With that, I agreed to let the being help me. He told me to wait until night, and then to punish those truly responsible for my predicament. And that's what leads us to the beginning, and end, of the story. My mother and father, the very cause of my bullying and harassment in the first place, tied to a tree. The power I felt over them only lifted my spirits and I gripped my metal hammer tighter in my hand. My parents practically begged me to spare their lives, but why should I when it was they who ruined mine? I raise my arm into the air, preparing to bring it down upon their skulls with all the force I could muster. It was my night. And the night was young. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ At around 4:55 Pm, 13 year old Devin Lancaster was found in his room by his mother and father. The parents of the boy were horrified to see their son deceased, and in respect to them, we have agreed to refrain from showing their faces or releasing any statements from the family as of now. It was said by his peers that Devin was a quiet child who had been bullied frequently in school. The parents allowed us to say that they had no idea Devin was bullied, and they had wished of him to make friends. There will be a memorial all across his hometown Richmond Illinois in order to memorialize a life taken too soon. There was no evidence of foul play in his death, and there are no reports from authorities as to what caused his death. All that was found at the scene was Devin, face down on his laptop, a game of Minecraft playing in the background. 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